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Owen Pallett
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Lewis Takes Off His Shirt (Benoit Pioulard Remix)
As soon as I got on the horse I forgot about the math.
Forgot about the odds against an adolescent standing up to all of Owen’s wrath.
The heat of prairie summer impossible to take.
I grab the hem and lift the fabric over my sweet head.
I know what you’re looking for and I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
Government rule established by a dazzling light show.
A hegemony armoured with a thousand-watt head and seven inches of echo.
I keep up my velocity my spurs are in her sides.
I don’t know what I’m doing and it is the only way.
Toward the range I’ll ride singing I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
“I am overrated” said the sculptor to the sea.
“I’ve been praised for all the ways the marble leaves the man and I was wrong to try and free him.”
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And as for me I am a vector I am muscle I am bone.
The sun upon my shoulders and the horse between my legs
This is all I know.
My senses are bedazzled by the parallax of the road.
I concentrate to keep contained the overflow.
My knuckles grip so tightly my fingers start to bleed.
What I have is what you need
And I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you.
I’m never gonna give it to you
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